


Breathe Me

by DRHPaints



Category: Barry (TV 2018), Bill Hader - Fandom
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, Biting, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Depression, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Rough Sex, Sex Work, Smut, Spanking, Suicidal Thoughts, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, referenced self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:41:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26913046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DRHPaints/pseuds/DRHPaints
Summary: Barry is back in Cleveland after his discharge, working for Fuches, deeply depressed and feeling hopeless. He runs into his childhood friend Annie, and when he discovers she’s getting by doing sex work, Barry offers her money to help. But Annie refuses, saying there’s only one way she’ll accept payment from Barry.
Relationships: Barry Berkman/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pockets_full_of_posies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pockets_full_of_posies/gifts).



> For those who are curious the title is from a song of the same name by Sia.

Losing count of how many times he turned over in bed and remained sleepless, Barry stared blankly at the dingy wall of his apartment, autumn Cleveland wind chilly as it whistled under the crack of his window frame. Barry pulled the blanket higher over his broad shoulders. _I should get up. I should go for a run. Or at least watch TV. Something._ But Barry remained recumbent, gazing at an ancient water stain and somehow pondering everything and nothing.

With a sigh he managed to swing his muscled legs off the mattress, padding to the bathroom. As he washed his hands, Barry caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. All gray-tinged skin and hollow cobalt eyes, Barry wondered who this haunted stranger was peering back at him as he dragged a large hand over an unknown number of day’s worth of stubble. 

Shuffling back to bed, Barry glanced at the kitchen. _When was the last time I ate?_ Barry wasn’t even sure what day it was as he picked up his phone. Somehow, despite the fact that he was wide awake and in silent repose, he missed the text notification when it came in hours before.

Fuches: _New job here in town. Should be pretty easy. Meet for lunch?_

Barry saw the clock creeping past 1:30 and considered ignoring Fuches altogether. The idea of showering, putting on fresh clothes, and facing the cacophony of the world made him want to hide under the covers and sink into a different reality. A universe where he never put on the uniform. Never picked up a gun. Never became intoxicated on that heady rush of killing and the congratulation that came after. A universe where he wasn’t Barry. 

But as his thumbs drifted over the keyboard, Barry knew those dreams didn’t come true. Play the cards you’re dealt, they say. And it seemed to Barry he had a handful of Jokers as he sat at an empty table.

Barry: _Okay. When and where?_

Fuches: _Let’s make it dinner. Mario’s. 7:30?_

Barry: _Sounds good. See you then._

Immensely relieved that he could climb back in bed, Barry folded the pillow under his head, wishing sleep would claim him and setting an alarm just in case, though he doubted he would be that fortunate. His stomach rumbled, prodding, reminding Barry of his existence, that he required sustenance to function, but he swatted the urge away. Somehow chewing was incredibly tedious, and he wasn’t certain there was food to be found in his kitchen, anyway.

Whether the hours raced by or scraped across the clock face in agonizing seconds, Barry couldn’t tell. Time didn’t matter. But he picked up his phone four minutes before the alarm was due, turning it off before shoving his face into the pillow. 

Taking a deep breath. Another. Barry wished he could cry. It was as if the tears floated behind his eyes, not a serene lake, but a roiling, furious ocean of salt and grief. Sometimes he thought he was almost there, perhaps if he focused, if he could arrange his thoughts into the perfect code of misery and remorse, then the dam would break.

But it never did. Nothing but shuddering breaths and the occasional rapid blinking. Slogging to his closet, Barry snatched a t-shirt off a hanger at random and pulled a fresh pair of boxers out of his dresser before hopping in the shower.

He stood under the hot water for he didn’t know how long. Without fail, Barry would procrastinate taking a shower until his scalp itched and he couldn’t stand the smell of himself wafting up from the sheets he was too tired to wash. But once he got inside, he never wanted to leave. 

Rinsing his hair, Barry glanced down. He was hard. Again. Never considering himself an exceptionally sexual man, the rate at which he was touching himself lately concerned him. He didn’t understand why it held such appeal. And in an odd way, there wasn’t anything erotic about it. He would watch porn, but only because his brain rarely cooperated enough to focus on anything, including constructing a fantasy, but at this point Barry was simply racing toward orgasm.

As the rivulets trickled over his muscles, aching from the amount of time spent horizontal, Barry tugged himself hard and fast, replaying a video he saw earlier that morning in his mind’s eye, cumming quickly and nearly silently. Often Barry would forget what got him off the last time, even if it was mere hours before, and once again he would catch himself staring blankly as he fought to remember something he thought should be so easy to recall.

Dressing and locking the door behind him, Barry’s hand lingered on the knob. _What if I just don’t go? What if I just stop? Never see Fuches again. Ignore his calls. Pretend I’m not home when he comes knocking. What’s he going to do about it?_

But then a second voice piped up. A voice whose tone was both poisonous and alluring. A dark, sultry voice that grew louder with each passing day. At first whispering. Then teasing, coaxing. And soon, Barry feared, commanding. _What are you going to do instead, Barry? If not this life, then…_

Barry could sense the weight of the gun in his hand, smell the powder as he stood with his forehead resting against the doorframe in his empty hallway. He didn’t yet know the taste of the barrel, but on more than one night, somewhere in those hateful late hours where woe turns to panic and the mind screams, _Do it now! Just get it over with!_ Barry’s light pink lips drew closer and closer.

Fingers slipping from the knob, Barry took a breath. And then another. The way they hitched in his chest made him worry he was ill sometimes. But then Barry would chuckle. Well, not really. He would exhale forcefully through his nose in the closest thing to mirth he accomplished in months, at the thought that he was concerned about getting sick when he wasn’t positive he wanted to exist in the first place.

Even though it was twilight, Barry winced as he emerged from the building, unlocking his car and climbing inside. He was going to be late. At this point Fuches probably expected it though, so Barry didn’t bother himself much as he took the left turn toward Mario’s. 

“Barry, my boy!” Remaining seated, Fuches spread his arms wide and Barry forced his mouth into something resembling a smile. “Sit down, sit down. Get whatever you want. My treat.”

 _Uh oh._ Frugal to a fault, Fuches offering to pay only meant one thing. He was planning to make an uncomfortable request of Barry.

Sure enough, after ordering the chicken parmesan, which didn’t sound remotely appetizing, but nothing else did either, Fuches leaned in. “So Barry, this job,” Tapping a finger on the table, Fuches had a way of looking at him that made Barry feel like a little boy all over again and he unconsciously slouched in his seat, vast shoulders curled inwards. “It’s two guys. Ukrainian. Over in Cincinnati. They’re holed up in a trailer, apparently.”

“Okay…” Cautious, Barry narrowed his eyes. “Sounds...straightforward.”

“Well…” Fuches made a face and lifted his hand, tipping it back and forth. “From what I’m _told_ they’re kind of like those...you know...doomsday preppers or whatever. Place is surrounded in barbed wire. Booby traps everywhere. Semi-automatics. That sorta thing.”

Pulling a hand over his face, Barry shook his head. “Jesus, Fuches…”

“Now, look, Barry, I know, I know…” Fuches raised his hands apologetically. “But, we’re getting triple. So if you pull this off it’ll be a hefty payday.”

Barry thought about the shoebox of cash in his closet. He never knew what to spend it on. Sure, he would buy new video games, or movies, but for the most part it just sat there. Once, browsing through a pawn shop while he waited for Fuches to meet him, Barry stumbled across an antique magnifying glass. Unsure why, the mother of pearl handle with its carved onyx post and silver detailing called to him. 

Barry could tell when he brought it up to the register the proprietor expected him to haggle, but he simply peeled off a few bills and asked for a bag, wrapping it carefully to protect the ancient concave surface.

The magnifying glass sat on top of his dresser now. Sometimes, in between his monotonous circuit from bed to couch and back again, Barry would stand there, fingers touching the handle, its iridescent surface oddly soothing for reasons unknown.

So with another influx of money unnecessary, Barry was uncertain why he agreed to the job, but he did, Fuches clapping him on the back as he slurped up a mouthful of spaghetti.

Fuches paid the tab and Barry waited for him to leave so he could plunk down an extra five to correct his measly tip before shoving his hands in his pockets and stepping outside. Growing dark during Fuches’ long-winded reminiscences about his time with Barry’s father, apparently oblivious to the indications written on Barry’s face that he didn’t want to hear it, Barry saw the street awakened in his absence.

Mario’s, though known for the best Italian food in town, was established nearly 100 years ago. At the time, Barry assumed, the area was probably a prosperous one, a great place for a family restaurant to take root and make a name for itself. But now decay grew in the neighborhood, spreading like untended mold, rife with crime and fear.

Walking to his car, Barry was half distracted with thoughts of how he was going to pull off this trailer job when a curvaceous woman with crimson hair caught the corner of his eye. Double taking, Barry narrowed his gaze. She leaned against the wall, short skirt barely peeking out from the bottom of a light jacket as one knee-high leather clad heel propped up against the brick. Surrounded by a half circle of other scantily clad women of various shapes, sizes, and colors, it wasn’t until she tossed back her head, cackling and clutching her stomach with glee, that Barry knew it was her.

Sidling up cautiously, a tall wispy blonde in a short, plunging dress pointed at him with a cigarette gripped between her fingers. “You lookin’ for a date, honey?”

“Oh, um...no.” Barry held up his hands, shaking his head. “Sorry, I...I just...Annie?”

Turning around, Barry saw the smile melt from her face as she took him in. “Holy shit. Barry?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, Barry offered a half grin and lifted his fingers in an awkward wave. “Hey.”

For a moment she just stared, lips parted before speaking over her shoulder to the women, eyes never leaving Barry’s face. “Hey ladies, I’ll...I’ll be back in a bit, okay?”

“Alright, girl.” One of the women called out. “You make him wear a condom, now, you hear?”

Annie’s eyes fell shut and she gritted her teeth, swallowing hard. Touching Barry’s elbow, she led him a few feet away. “Hey...you...wow, Barry. I didn’t know you were back.”

Barry bobbed his head, struggling to take in this image of Annie. “Yeah. Not for too long, but yeah. Sorry, I...I tried calling you when I came back to the States but it said the number was disconnected and, um…” Clearing his throat, Barry shifted his eyes away.

“That’s okay.” Annie shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.” Looking into Barry’s dark blue eyes, Annie bit her lip, then glanced up and down the street. “Do you want to catch up for a bit? I live right around the corner.”

“Oh.” Smiling, Barry raised his hands then let them fall back to his thighs. “Sure. Sounds good.”

Following as her heels clicked over the sidewalk, Annie led him to a rundown building, putting her key in the lock and jamming it open with her shoulder before walking up to the second floor. Her apartment was cramped, but tidy, and on every surface Barry saw Annie’s reflection.

Whether it be the ancient, magenta standmixer that he knew Annie could use to construct delicious baked goods, often bringing them to Barry before school when she was fortunate enough to be able to bake if her dad passed out early the night before.

Or the large movie posters donning every wall, Annie being the only one Barry could bring to the midnight shows at their local indie theatre who wouldn’t roll her eyes at having to sit through a black and white film with subtitles, instead discussing it excitedly afterward at the diner, her green eyes wide and delicate hands gesturing exuberantly as they waxed on about the cinematography, writing, and costumes, constantly interrupting one another and neither caring one bit.

Or the half finished painting on the easel wedged in the corner. Barry tried to encourage Annie to pursue her creativity, and even convinced her to apply to the local art college, but when she got in, there was no way to pay the tuition, and so her canvases piled up unseen. 

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? Tea?” Annie offered, shedding her jacket to reveal a skimpy red camisole.

Barry tried not to let his eyes linger. “Just water, thanks.”

Returning with two glasses, Annie joined him at her smal kitchen table and smiled. “So, what are you doing now that you’re back?”

“Auto parts.” Barry replied, rehearsed answer at the ready. Annie nodded, taking a sip of her water. “How long have you been doing...this?”

Face settling into a flat line, Annie lifted a shoulder. “A couple of years. Since dad, you know…”

Barry nodded sadly. He knew how much Annie despised her father, but with his retirement, she was financially dependent on him before his passing. “Yeah, I...I heard. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” Annie offered a half smile. “I just couldn’t keep up with the house payments. I tried. Was working 80 hours a week and it was killing me. But then I...once I sold the house and paid for the funeral, well, there...there wasn’t much left and a friend of mine, she...she does this, so…”

Taking a swallow of her drink, Annie shifted her eyes away. A acrid guilt bubbled up in Barry’s stomach. The idea that he pitied himself for his circumstances when he considered what Annie faced throughout her life made him nauseous.

He vividly recalled the first time he got up the courage to ask Annie about her mom. They were around ten, perhaps, and after becoming fast friends, Barry would talk about his family, as most children do, but he noticed Annie only ever made mention of her father and brother.

“Hey, what about your mom? Are your parents divorced or something?” Barry tilted his head at her as they drew a hopscotch board on the sidewalk.

“Oh, my mom is dead.” Annie threw it out so casually, never glancing up from the elegant ‘7’ she scrawled inside of a large pink square.

Mouth falling open, Barry sat back on his heels. “Oh. I’m sorry, Annie.”

Annie just shrugged, staring at the ground and drawing. “It’s okay. I was only six when it happened. I don’t remember her.”

Thinking it was odd that she couldn’t recall something from that age when he himself had clear memories of things at least back to age three, Barry decided not to press the issue as he drew a ‘4’, disappointed that his was uncentered compared to Annie’s. “Oh, was she sick or something?”

“She was really sleepy one night and accidentally took too much of her medication.”

Barry’s fingers froze around the chalk. Annie continued working with her chalk contentedly. There was no sign of deception in her face, no indication that she didn’t believe every word of what she was saying. Even at that tender age, Barry looked on in horror. _How can she not know?_

Never quite sure how she found out, Barry sure as hell knew when. A shadow settled over Annie a couple of years later, a spectre she couldn’t shake. Sure, she would still laugh and they would have their fun together, but Annie’s smile never quite reached her emerald eyes again once that truth settled in her bones.

Playing with the condensation on his glass, Barry considered her now, sitting before him in her decrepit apartment, selling her body to get by, and he rested his forearms on the table. “You know….Annie, I...I have money. I can give you some. Help you get on your feet.”

Tsking, Annie rolled her eyes and sat back, arms crossed. “I don’t need your help, Barry. I’m fine.”

Furrowing his brow, Barry blinked at her. “Annie...no. You’re not. I mean...you’re...you’re…”

“A whore?” Annie supplied, eyebrow ticking up. “Is that the word you’re thinking of, Barry?”

Swallowing, Barry settled in his chair, fingers fidgeting, voice soft. “I didn’t say that…” Dark blue eyes rising to meet hers, Barry tilted his head. “But you don’t have to do this. Really. I can help you, I—“

Annie held up a hand. “Stop, Barry. Just stop.” Narrowing her eyes, a rod of steel crept into her tone. “You ever consider that maybe I _like_ doing sex work?” She stared him down and Barry blinked, taken aback. “And I don’t know what kind of blue-blooded hero they turned you into over there, but I sure as fuck don’t need saving. So just...don’t.”

Seeing the fire behind her viridescent gaze, Barry supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. When they first became friends, Barry invited Annie over to play, have dinner, and until his mom found the first Playboy under his mattress, have sleepovers. Annie was at his house practically every day and, looking back, Barry supposed his mother saw Annie’s secondhand clothes, her scrawny limbs, and took pity on her, happy to give her the solid meals and attention she lacked at home.

At first, Barry didn’t realize that it was odd that Annie never invited him over to her house. Never once did Barry see Annie’s room, or even her kitchen. The exception being the treehouse in her backyard. Put up by the previous residents, it was in poor repair, but they spent endless hours playing house, pirates, space aliens, and anything else they could think of among the rickety boards.

Sometimes they would haul up a backpack’s worth of snacks and have their sleepovers there instead of in Barry’s basement or backyard. On one such occasion, just after night fell and they were bent over a comic book with a flashlight, a resounding boom of thunder roared across the sky and as if someone turned on a faucet, rain poured down in sheets instantaneously. Lightning casting odd shadows on the walls, Barry started to fidget, inching lower in his sleeping bag. He didn’t like storms, they frightened him. Something about that uncontollable force of nature made him uneasy in the depths of his being.

Seeing his distress. Annie tried to console him. “Barry, it’s just weather. Relax.”

Barry shook his head. “I don’t know...maybe we should go to my house.”

Rolling her eyes, Annie shrugged out of her sleeping bag. “It’s fine. Just watch.” 

Climbing down the ladder, the storm was whipping to a frenzy by that point and it blew Annie’s red hair straight out to the side. Reflecting, Barry imagined that had his mother been looking after them, she would’ve demanded they come inside as the lightning crackled and the wind howled menacingly, but Annie’s father was likely passed out and unaware that Barry, or even Annie, was there.

Reaching the ground, Annie was determined to prove to Barry that the storm was nothing to fear. But she didn’t run around shouting and laughing. She didn’t splash in any of the puddles amassing in her untended lawn. No. Instead Annie just stood, face up and serene as the rain drops pelted her, hands outstretched, surrendering to chaos.

That same stubborn, motivated Annie sat before him, but the idea of her out on the street, risking being picked up by the wrong man when Barry was all-too-familiar with the types of monsters who roamed the earth's crust undetected at this point, was too much to fathom. Leaning to one side, Barry unearthed his wallet, taking out several hundreds and setting them on the table firmly. 

“Annie, please. Just take it. I don’t need it and no matter what you say, I know you do.” Sliding the money toward her, Barry softened his voice. “ _Please_.”

Annie stared down at the cash for a while, silent. Then her eyes fell to her lap. “Barry, I...There’s only one way I’m going to take your money.” 

Flicking up to meet his gaze, Barry looked back at her, lips parting before he cleared his throat and sat back. All through high school people assumed Barry and Annie were dating. They spent such a significant amount of time together. And there was a part of Barry back then that wondered if it wouldn’t be worth a shot. Barry noticed her as they both matured, found himself thinking about her in more-than friendly ways. But Barry decided what he had with Annie was too valuable. 

Annie never made Barry feel worthless. In fact, quite the opposite. She would tell Barry how funny he was, encourage him to try new things and even if he sucked, tell him to try again and ‘fail better.’ She never made him feel stupid. School didn’t come easily to Barry, his brain short circuiting with panic around things like quizzes and tests and finding it difficult to focus on assignments. Annie, on the other hand, was prodigal. A straight ‘A’ student, until her depression got the better of her in high school. But she never considered herself above Barry, instead offering him patient, honest help with his studies, even if it meant neglecting her own assignments in which she took tremendous pride. And so for Barry, it wasn’t worth the risk.

They only came close one time. It was Barry’s last night before he left for basic training. Friends throwing a huge bash, by three a.m. everyone had trickled away or passed out, and Annie and Barry were left, drunk and laughing uproariously at things unlikely to be amusing in the sober light of day.

In her inebriation, Annie suggested they go up to the treehouse one last time. The wood groaned threateningly beneath them as they crouched inside, Barry amazed at how much smaller it appeared and unable to comprehend how they both slept inside the tiny lumber box. 

Hand resting on his knee, Annie turned and tried to blink Barry into focus. “You’re gonna be safe over there, right Bar?”

Barry nodded, intending to pat her hand, but in his intoxication he simply rested it on top. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

“So you…” Swallowing hard, Annie’s green eyes searched his face. “You promise you’ll come back?”

Barry leaned in, Annie’s face close. So close. “I promise.”

Mouths meeting, Barry could taste the vodka sours she loved so dearly on Annie’s tongue, could smell the sweet pea and citrus of her perfume, and auburn strands wove between his fingers as he cradled her head close.

Annie tossed a leg over his lap, and in the half a moment when their mouths parted before she straddled him, she whispered, “ _Barry.”_ Her hands in his hair and her hips pressing firm, for a moment Barry lost himself in Annie’s warmth, her presence, before he broke away, shaking his head.

“Annie...you’re drunk. This...this isn’t a good idea.”

Fingers resting on his broad shoulders, Annie sat back, nodding slowly. “Okay. Yeah.”

Climbing off, she sat next to Barry, both of them staring at the floorboards where immeasurable amounts of ghost stories, silly games, and secrets passed between them. Gradually they shrugged down, knees curled up as their bodies could no longer stretch out to sleep, Annie nestling into Barry’s strong arms, clutching him close. They held one another as the sun rose on Barry’s final morning in Cleveland, and the last thing Barry heard before sleep claimed were Annie’s whispered words, “ _Come back to me, Barry.”_

But the Annie who sat at the kitchen table now was not the same Annie whose timid tongue slipped into his mouth in their childhood playplace. And Barry was not the same young man, full of hope and energy and determined to make a positive mark on the world. That man was shattered, if not gone completely, and instead a shell of the Barry that once was shifted in the chair across from Annie, thumb scratching at nothing on the table as he stared at its surface.

“Okay…” Lips barely moving, Barry didn’t look up at her, his shoulders curling inward and his chin tucking down. “I...I wanna do that.”

Annie blinked, mouth parting in surprise. When she challenged Barry, she expected him walk out, in fact she was hoping he would if it meant he would stop pitying her and put his money away. But this...this vulnerable, downcast man who couldn’t meet her eye and was saying he wanted to take her to bed, was not something for which Annie was prepared.

Still, she considered herself a professional. Clearing her throat, Annie straightened her spine and put on her seductive voice. “Alright, Barry. Tell me what you want.”

“Don’t…” Shutting his eyes, Barry gritted his teeth and every muscle in his sharp jaw jumped. “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of them, Annie.” Barry shook his head a little before his eyes, deep pools of aching blue lifted to hers. “I just want you.”

Folding in on herself, Annie nodded slowly. “Okay, Barry.” Annie stood, lifting Barry’s hand from the table. “Come on.”

Leading Barry to her bedroom, Annie realized she never had a trick in there before. Then again, as his tall form stood before her, so familiar and yet so foreign, Barry wasn’t just another trick. 

For a moment they faced one another, both looking away and shifting their weight awkwardly from foot to foot. Annie began the only way she knew how, grabbing the hemline of her shirt and peeling it over head. Never before had she felt so naked in front of a man when still donning so many garments as Barry’s head slowly rose, taking in her curves, her creamy skin as Annie approached him in her black bra and skirt. 

Fingers timidly cupping his sculpted jaw, Annie looked at Barry, still unable to meet her gaze as she grew close, pressing the briefest of kisses to his pink lips before settling back on her heels. Barry took a shuffling step forward, sizable hands going to her waist and Annie noticed he was trembling.

Again, she caressed his stubbled cheek, but when she linked their mouths, this time she held, until with gentle pressure, Barry’s lips parted beneath hers. Annie snuck her tongue past his teeth, and just like all the times she snuck through his window after their sleepovers were banned, afraid to rest in her own bed and only able to drift off in Barry’s skinny arms, Annie made a home there.

Ivory fingers crept into his chestnut waves as Barry explored Annie’s mouth, thumbs rubbing small circles into her waist as her body, her warmth, molded to him. Annie lifted his t-shirt overhead, and in that moment when their lips parted, before she trailed through his sparse chest hair and kissed him, her voice once again uttered, “ _Barry.”_

Barry thought about how many times he replayed that scene from the treehouse in his head while overseas. How he would curl up on his bunk, scared and surrounded by the falsely calm snores of other frightened men, and think about the way Annie’s voice spoke his name in that moment. Not with lust, nor casual adoration, but with a need, a wanting that bubbled up from some secret place within her she never exposed to Barry before that tipsy night. 

He would hear that intonation in his mind and it imbued Barry with strength. The strength to face another impossible situation. The strength not to give up and stand before enemy fire when everything became too loud and hot and terrifying. The strength that, laying in the bed of that German hospital and believing himself damned, gave Barry a reason to get better enough to be sent home. 

Annie’s scent surrounded him, the same as before but with a fresh, sharper note beneath it all that reminded Barry that it was okay to want her. Annie wasn’t a little girl standing out in the rain trying to sooth his fears. She was a beautful woman, and her hands, her skin, her mouth were the utopia where Barry wished to lose himself.

Unsnapping her bra, Annie let the straps fall and cast it aside. Lips stopping, Barry stared down at her chest for a moment, perky pink nipples raised. Annie took his wrist, guiding Barry’s hand up to cup her breast until his fingers massaged delicately. Capturing his lips again, Annie undid Barry’s jeans, pushing them to the floor before unzipping her skirt and kicking it free. 

Annie swiveled in close, and when her hip grazed his erection, Barry instinctively jerked his pelvis back. “Sorry…” His voice sounded hoarse in his own ears, unnatural. “I guess I’m just...nervous.” Barry hadn’t been with anyone since he got back. The idea of going to a bar, or downloading a dating app, and going through the rigamarole of courtship, didn't seem worth the hassle. And so to find himself in the arms of a prostitute wasn’t all that strange, considering. The fact that those arms belonged to Annie, however, was something else entirely.

Encircling his waist, Annie rested her chin to Barry’s chest. “Me too…” Voice barely squeaking out, Annie couldn’t remember the last time she was anxious about sex. Sure, she got nervous when she encountered tricks who had that glint in their eye, or asked things like _‘So, what can’t I do?_ ’ But the actual sex part, that was old hat at this point. Annie had a prescribed system she went through, unless people asked for extras or specialties, and it wasn’t an exaggeration to say she could likely perform half the acts in her sleep.

But as her fingers stuttered over Barry’s strong arms, his firm chest, his little belly, pausing above the waistband of his boxers, Annie’s experience left her wanting. 

“Do you…” Swallowing, she took Barry’s hands and looked to the floor. “Should we lay down?”

“Okay…” Barry’s voice was high, almost cracking as they crawled into opposite sides of the bed, Annie pausing to slip her panties down and step out of them before curling naked beside Barry.

They faced one another, not touching for a moment, Annie examining Barry’s stormy blue eyes. “I…” She began, not sure if it was a wise choice. “I really missed you, Barry. I’m glad you’re back.”

Barry’s hand crept across the bed, barely covering the tips of Annie’s fingers. “I missed you, too, Annie.”

Scooting in next to him, Annie fused their mouths together, her body gradually adhering to Barry’s. First fingers in his hair, a hand at his shoulders, a leg tossed about his waist, until he sighed audibly at her warmth pushed against him. Licking into her mouth, Barry rolled Annie onto her back, hips seeking the heat between her legs through the fabric of his boxers.

Annie’s arm slithered between them and she palmed the outline of Barry’s erection. Gasping, Barry broke away and looked into Annie’s green eyes. “Annie, I...I’m sorry if I don’t...if it’s over quickly….” Shfting his gaze sheepishly, Barry swallowed. “I haven’t been with anyone for a while and I, um….” Looking at her, when Barry spoke again his throat was tight and voice tremulous. “I’ve wanted this for a really long time.”

Carding her fingers through his dark waves, Annie’s face was thoughtful. “Me too, Barry. It’s okay.”

Nodding, Barry touched their lips together, his large hand trickling down her body, pausing just below her navel. “Is this okay?”

The hardened part of Annie, the part that long ago stopped stinging at the names men threw at her in the height of their passions, wanted to say something like, _‘Honey, you paid for it, do whatever you want’_ but instead she just murmured, “Yes, Barry.” And his fingers crept between her thighs, parting her lips before circling her clit.

Barry didn’t rub hard and fast. And it wasn’t artful coaxing, either. Rather the pads of his fingers cherished her, moving through Annie like a canoe paddling over a serene lake. Not disturbing her essence, but summoning it forth, drawing her unto himself with care and tenderness until Annie rolled her hips into his hand, moaning softly into Barry’s mouth. 

Her fingers breached the band of his boxers but Barry shook his head, guiding her wrist away as his other hand increased its ministrations. Neck arching in ecstasy as she rolled her hips, Barry kissed over her exposed flesh, tongue dipping into the hollow of Annie’s throat for a moment befor brushing his lips over her collarbone.

“ _Barry….oh Barry, don’t stop!_ ” Fingers digging into his expansive shoulders, Annie began to quake as his hand spun between her thighs.

Barry peered down at her studiously. “Look at me, Annie.” He whispered. “Keep looking at me.”

Fighting to keep her eyes open and his handsome face in focus, Annie cried out, squirming and mouth agape as her lashes fluttered. “ _Barry! Yes! Barry!”_ Folding into him, Annie gripped Barry close as his hand stilled, breath shallow and tremors continuing to skitter over her skin.

Barry sought Annie’s parted lips, kissing haphazardly as he frantically humped her thigh, hand pawing at her face. “ _Annie…_ ” Voice begging, Barry tugged at a handful of her red hair. “Annie...I need... _I need…_ ”

“Tell me, Barry.” Annie whispered, stroking his stubbled cheek. “Tell me what you need.”

Shaking his head in his distress, Barry’s eyes were clenched tight as he thrust his erection into her hip. “I...I need to make you feel good, Annie.”

“You did…” Annie intoned, brushing a kiss to his temple. “You do.”

Forehead to her shoulder, Barry tipped his head from side to side, voice eking out. “ _More_.”

Suddenly Barry scrambled down her body, hands urgent and lips desperate as he moved her thighs apart, diving forward with his strong jaw. Licking her open, Barry’s tongue flowed over Annie’s pink, glistening flesh, raw and insatiable. 

Annie’s fingers wound into Barry’s dark brown tendrils as her pelvis rose to meet his eager face. Sure, she had some clients who would go down on her. Usually her regulars with whom she’d developed some semblance of intimacy. And a few were even quite good at it.

But the way Barry devoured her was like dipping a toe in quicksand. The more Annie thrashed, the further she was engulfed, sinking into the exquisite sensation of Barry’s mouth, his touch until Annie found herself smothered by desire.

Back arching, Annie rutted against his sculpted jaw, careless of his stubble scraping her thighs as her heels kicked in the sheets. Barry moaned into her with such a volume that had his face not been muffled, his sounds would have drown out her own as he helplessly rubbed his stiff cock into the mattress. In an effort to resist the urge to touch himself, Barry’s hands roamed over Annie’s body, fingertips seeking, searching, hoping against hope to find in her thighs, her breasts, her face, her skin itself that which escaped him since he returned home.

“ _Barry!”_ Annie gasped as her body began to shake. Popping up, Barry couldn’t help himself. Face shiny and hair sticking up in every direction, he continued to spin over Annie’s clit with a thumb as he hooked a hand behind her neck, lifting her toward him and claiming her mouth.

As Annie tasted herself on Barry’s tongue, his kiss was insistent, pleading, asking for decades worth of things he not only denied himself, but they denied one another as their lips held.

Pulling back, Barry threaded an errant ruby strand behind Annie’s ear, a solemn nod passing between them before he lowered himself once more. Mouth clamping around her clit, Barry sucked and flicked Annie with his tongue and she writhed beneath him, body threatening to boil over as she tore at his scalp. “ _Oh Barry! Yes! Just like that! Don’t stop!”_

The noises Barry made as he hummed into her and hastened his actions sounded almost as if he were tying to speak to her, to proclaim something to the tender skin of her sex. Years of unsaid thoughts, held back words, issuing from his earnest mouth as Annie convulsed above him, crying out Barry’s name and dripping over his chin.

As soon as the last scream ripped the air and Annie’s body started to tremble, Barry climbed rapidly back up to her face, boxers soaking as he shoved his erection between her thighs and hands trying to touch all of her, Annie’s ass, her arms, her breast, as Barry anxiously peppered her face with kisses.

“Can we…” Barry wriggled above her, a nipple tweaking between his lengthy fingers and voice barely more dignified than a whine. “Now? Please?”

“Yeah.” Nodding, Annie patted Barry on the shoulder. “Hang on.” Craning her neck, Annie rifled into her bedside drawer and retrieved a condom. Barry went to grab it, but Annie pulled her hand back. “I’ll do it.” She always made a point to apply the condom herself. So many tricks tried to get out of wearing one. And even though she trusted Barry would never do such a thing, it was habit at this point.

Nodding, Barry reached and shuffled his boxers over his thick thighs before resting on his side. Annie rolled the condom down his massive cock, allowing her fingers to ghost adoringly over him for a moment before laying back.

Wide head positioned at her entrance, Barry studied Annie’s emerald eyes with a questioning look. For a moment they stared at one another before Annie swallowed, spreading her legs further apart and nodding.

Barry inched forward, a pained, wavering moan escaping his pink lips as Annie’s warm wetness surrounded him. Mouth open in silence as she acclimated to the stretch, once able to inhale, Annie kissed Barry’s stubbled cheek, then, seeing his scrunched face and hands fisted in the sheets, Annie’s lips went to his joined seashell ear.

“It’s okay, Barry.” Annie whispered, fingers playing in his dark hair. “Just fuck me. I want you to cum, too. Go ahead.”

Opening his eyes, Barry saw the expression on Annie’s face he’d witnessed times beyond count. Comforting him when he failed yet another math test because, as soon as the teacher placed it before him, Barry became overwhelmed to the point that he crumpled it up and threw it away before going to cry in the bathroom. 

The same expression that, when Barry asked his crush to prom and she not only turned him down, but laughed in his face, looked back at him as Annie rubbed Barry’s broad shoulder and told him again and again how beautiful and funny and kind he was, and that he could do so much better.

The expression that was there when Barry’s father died, Annie cradling him in her arms as Barry curled up, trying to make himself small, sobbing, no words necessary as she knew the grief he faced in that moment.

That face of resounding solace peered up at him now, and Barry nodded. “Thank you…” He whispered, before slithering his arms underneath her, crisscrossing behind Annie’s back and fingers hooking over her shoulders as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Barry pounded wildly, bedframe squeaking in protest beneath them as he held Annie as close as possible, clapping into her with abandon. “ _Oh Annie! Yeah! Annie! Annie!”_ Whimpering, Barry panted a moist, damp circle into her skin as he plunged into her with breakneck speed, Annie closing her limbs around him, lips the only slow-moving thing in their ball of lust as she kissed Barry’s crisp jawline.

“ _Annie! Yeah! Gonna cum! Yeah! Fuck!_ ” Barry stopped breathing, but his legs continued to swim around him as his body curled. Then, with a jerky leaping of his hips and a sobbing, broken whine Barry hovered on top of her, before settling, sweaty and seeking air.

With the nature of his shallow breathing and his face tucked into her neck, it wasn’t until his wide back shook beneath her hands that Annie realized Barry was weeping. What began as a couple of unexpected tears roared to life as a torrent of sobs, Barry clinging to Annie and shuddering as he lowered his face to her collarbone.

Guiding Barry to his side, Annie adjusted her arms to hold him to her chest, kissing the top of his silky hair and keeping a leg around his waist, not ready for Barry to leave her just yet.

With months, perhaps years, Barry couldn’t remember, since he last cried, he soaked Annie’s skin until he was a husk, cold and tired and red-eyed when he finally lifted his head. Sealing their lips together for a brief moment, Barry looked away, with a sniff and a nod and pulled himself free, standing to dispose of the condom.

Annie’s hand touched his shoulder, shaking her head. Peeling off the condom, she tied it in a knot and set it on the bedside stand, gathering Barry back into her. Barry’s arms curled around her and they folded into a ball of silent solace, breath syncing as, for the first time he could recall in recent memory, Barry drifted into sleep free of nightmares.


	2. 2

Waking to the light winking through the broken blind she kept meaning to replace, Annie opened one bleary eye to discover Barry’s slumbering form on the pillow next to her, his twitching hand resting at her waist as his eyes darted behind the lids.

For the first time since she encountered him the day before he actually looked like the Barry she used to know. Face relaxed, Barry appeared younger. No longer was the tension evident in his brow, nor was there the sadness that took residence around his wide mouth in the years since they last encountered one another. Pink lips gently parted and eyelashes barely flickering, Annie wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him, stroke her fingers through his hair, trace his carved features, but she didn’t wish to disturb him, slipping backward out of bed quietly before pulling on a fresh pair of panties and a t-shirt before padding her way to the kitchen.

Snorting himself awake, for a moment Barry blinked around the room, disoriented and unsure of where he was. Then images of the night before flooded back to him. Annie’s face, her skin, her melodic voice crying out his name, and he smiled. The act was unnatural to his facial muscles as Barry stood and scooped his clothes from the floor. 

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he saw a two missed calls and a text from Fuches.

Fuches: _Need to see you ASAP. Update on the job. Please call back soon._

Sighing heavily, Barry got dressed before joining Annie in the kitchen. 

“Hey.” Lifting a hand in an awkward wave, Barry grinned.

“Hi.” Leaning against the counter peeling a banana, Annie and Barry found it difficult to look at one another, eyes coyly colliding from time to time, only to scurry away and be replaced by the blood filling their cheeks.

“So, um…” Barry stepped towards her, allowing a single finger to drag down her waist. “That was...last night…” Swallowing, Barry nodded and pouted his lips. “Thank you.”

Hand closing over his own, Annie leaned into his body, plucking at Barry’s shirt. “You too...I...I’m glad we ran into each other, Barry.”

Bobbing his head, Barry rested his chin on Annie’s shoulder, firm arms coming around behind her until there wasn’t a hair’s breadth between them. “Me too.” Turning in to kiss her neck, Barry’s voice shrank to a whisper. “I missed you so much, Annie.”

Fingers creeping up the nape of his neck, Annie sighed. “I missed you, too, Barry.” Tipping up her chin, Annie pecked his lips, then rested back on her heels, studying his sapphire eyes. Barry bent down, taking her mouth and drinking deep, tongues swirling as his hand ensconced itself in her unruly auburn hair and she walked him backward to the couch.

Sitting down, Barry figured Fuches could wait as Annie straddled him, his morning erection evident through his pants. Her hands trickled over his chest, coming to rest in his dark tendrils as her hips rolled into him. Parting, Annie brushed her lips below his ear, breath hot and urgent as her hand crept down to cup the bundle of his crotch. “Do you want me to suck you, Barry?”

“If you want to…” Barry nodded, chafing her with his stubble. “Yeah.”

Annie captured his lips as she undid his jeans, hand sneaking inside to release his cock before she slithered to the floor, pushing her coffee table out of the way and kneeling. Annie gathered her hair to one side before her fingers encircled him, lowering herself and taking the head of Barry’s cock between her plump lips.

Barry let out a deep sigh as her mouth descended, cheeks hollowing and sucking purposefully as she stroked his shaft. Using her tongue to press firmly on the underside and flick, Annie fondled Barry’s balls, tugging a little as she bobbed.

Both large hands massaged her scalp as Barry relaxed back onto the couch, lips parted and moaning as his eyes fluttered closed. “Oh Annie... _yes_. That’s so good…” Fighting to keep his pelvis flat, Barry gritted his teeth as she burrowed him in the back of her throat, mouth sinking to the root and devouring him greedily. 

Barry’s hips tipped forward for the briefest of moments with a gasp and he settled back down. “Sorry.” He swallowed, shaking his head.

Annie rose, releasing his cock with a pop. “That’s okay.” She lifted a shoulder. “You can, you know…” Her eyes slid away and a small smirk grew over her lips. “Do that. If you want.” She wasn’t sure why it was difficult all of a sudden for her to discuss these things. Usually she would just say something like, _Go ahead, fuck my face._ But with Barry, Annie found herself almost shy.

“Yeah?” Barry raised an eyebrow.

Nodding, Annie gave him a couple of pumps. “Yeah. I...I like it when you’re really into it.” A pink hue rose on her cheeks and she bit her lip. “So...if you want to...thrust or...push my head down or whatever. Go for it.”

Barry’s shoulders tightened and a little smile inched across his face as his eyes darted. “Oh. Okay then.” 

With a grin Annie resumed, inhaling him once more. Tentatively, Barry curved his pelvis forward, head of his cock brushing the slippery inner surfaces of Annie’s throat. In response she moaned around him. Weaving his sizable hands into her scarlet locks, Barry guided her down and did it again, and the vibrations of her voice around his sensitive flesh buzzed to the base of his cock as he laid his head back and groaned.

Bracing his upper back on the couch, Barry twisted his heels into the carpet, whimpering shamelessly as he ardently pummeled Annie’s face. “ _Oh Annie! Yes! Your mouth! Fuck! Yes!_ ” Saliva pooled at the base of his cock as he dug his fingertips into her scalp, Annie sticking her tongue out to avoid gagging on his substantial girth. “Annie…” Squirming, Barry’s body arched and flowed in the air like fabric on the wind as he sought to drive himself impossibly deeper. “Can I cum in your throat? Huh? _Please?”_ Barry knew he was begging, that it was probably undignified, but he was beyond pride and when Annie hummed her assent his relief was incalculable. Barry folded forward, both arms wrapped around her head and pelvis pulsing, barely retracting himself from the hot circle of her lips as he whined and cradled Annie’s head in his lap. “ _Annie! Yes! I’m gonna cum! Yes! Fuck! FUCK!_ ” Hot, salty cum flooded the back of Annie’s throat as Barry pitched to the side and she went with him, his body shivering and left eye twitching uncontrollably.

Annie readily swallowed and when Barry released her head, she wiped her eyes and mouth before crawling into his lap, brushing kisses to Barry’s strong jaw as he sat, limp and gasping.

“Fuck.” Barry managed once he blinked his eyes open. “That was great.”

Annie nipped at his joined earlobe, chuckling. “Glad you enjoyed it.”

Nodding, Barry took her lips, tongues lacing together as his hand cascaded down her body, fingers breaching the waistband of her panties and finding Annie slick with anticipation. Barry swirled over her clit, Annie’s back to his chest as she writhed in his lap, rutting into his touch and leaning back against him. 

Barry kissed over her neck, his stubble lightly abrasive as he made a triangle around her clit with his thumb, middle and ring fingers and began delicately tugging, milking her and causing Annie’s thighs to glide rapidly together, cricket-like as she scrambled and cried out under his grasp.

“Does that feel good, Annie?” Barry whispered, kissing under her ear, tasting her sweat. “Do you like that?”

“ _Yes, Barry!”_ Annie shrieked, clawing at his arm, eyes rolling. “ _Fuck! Fuck, don’t stop!”_

Her face turned into him, expression pained as Annie’s fingers touched Barry’s cheek. Freezing and airless, her eyes opened and met his oceanic gaze for a moment, and Barry stared into her, a lifetime of anguish and devastation looking back, Annie’s hardened shell crumbling before him to reveal the soft woman inside. 

The one who sat beside Barry at his father’s funeral, both of them silent and stoic until they got back to his bedroom, casket in the ground and relatives gone, and she held him while Barry sobbed so hard he couldn’t breathe.

The one who winced one day when Barry grabbed her arm to pull her down the hall to Chemistry class, and when she wouldn’t explain why and he rolled up her sleeve to see the angry red slashes, tried to hide, to get away from him before he could see her tears, but Barry’s arms surrounded Annie, unsure what to say but needing to let her know he was there.

The one who sat under the harsh lights of the psych unit junior year after Barry got the phone call and rushed to the hospital, her face gray and empty, and when he asked her why, Annie turned to him, voice hollow and croaked, “I just wanted to feel something. Anything.”

It was that fractured woman who shook in his arms now, repeating Barry’s name and touching his skin, and Barry didn’t know whether her sharp edges would align with his own, forming a picturesque, peaceful puzzle, or if as the ridges grew closer they would slice one another open again and again, leaving their fragile beings more broken and bleeding than before.

For a while Barry held Annie in her minuscule living room, breathing and lost in one another’s consoling warmth as the minutes ticked on before Barry cleared his throat and gave her a squeeze. 

“I’m sorry, I have to go to work.”

Annie shook her head. “Don’t be sorry.” Scratching under his square chin, she smiled. “It was good to see you, Barry.”

“You too, Annie.” Barry took her lips, tongues briefly slipping past one another before he stood and made his way toward the door.

“Wait…” Holding out a hand, Annie picked up the stack of money on the kitchen table. “Barry, I….” Annie peeled off two of the hundreds, extending the rest to him. “I don’t charge this much.”

Staring at the cash, Barry’s expression hardened. “Just...just take it, Annie.” Icy blue eyes bore into her and eventually Annie retracted her arm, nodding.

“Barry?” She called out again before the door closed behind him. Barry turned to look at her, face indiscernible. “If you want…more.” Barry’s chest tightened as he saw her shift her weight. “You could call. Or come by. Whenever.”

Eyes falling to the floor, Barry gripped the doorknob. “Yeah...yeah, I’d like that.” Annie walked forward and gave him her number, and after he entered it in his phone, Barry lifted a hesitant hand, twisting a lock of scarlet hair around his fingers before cupping her cheek, bending down and joining their mouths. 

Barry hoped the kiss expressed his gratitude, his deep appreciation for Annie allowing him into her home, her bed, her body and filling him up at a time when he was achingly empty. Tucking the hair behind her ear, Barry nodded, and with a brief touching of fingertips, he left.

Fuches informed Barry that apparently the Ukrainians caught wind of the fact they were wanted, and were packing up to leave town as soon as possible. Barry hated working against a deadline. A meticulous man when it came to his hits, Barry preferred to take his time, make sure things were clean, precise, before going in for the kill.

But thankfully as he drove to the address Fuches provided, trunk full of recon equipment and a handful of weapons should he need to pounce unexpectedly, Barry wasn’t quite as worn, quite as dreary as on previous assignments these last few months. 

Whenever his thoughts started to encroach, considerations about the possible loved ones of the men he hunted, memories of things done in the war, or that sweet, tempting whisper of the gun turned away from the target and onto himself, Barry frantically called up memories of Annie.

How she touched him, and how deliriously good it felt. Barry realized that aside from Fuches’ somewhat condescending pats on the shoulder and the occasional bumping into strangers, the last time someone hugged him was when he first got back and he sat through that awful welcome home party, bodies moving around him like gray ghosts as Barry struggled to process the festivities and instead, disappeared somewhere in the recesses of his own mind while images of smiling, singing faces and a cake aglow with his name whirled before him.

Or Barry would think about how Annie kissed him. Her lips, painted blood red and just as life-giving, would meet his own, but she didn’t bear forward all at once, no. They would barely brush, tapping ever-so-lightly, only to gradually surge against him, as though Annie were telling him a secret, voice quiet and fingers coaxing as she beckoned Barry near.

These reminiscences kept Barry sane as he found a high perch from which to watch the Ukrainians. Barry exited his car cautiously, unsure how far their perimeter extended. He saw evidence of where their barbed wire used to reside, an unnaturally straight line of windblown trash dotting the terrain. Barry thankfully also caught sight of a bear trap in high weeds they must’ve missed in their collections, skirting it warily and making a mental note to snap it with a branch before he left if he could do so without blowing his cover. If he had to guess, he’d say they were about halfway through packing their gear, unless they intended to leave a significant portion of their wares behind. It seemed Barry would have no choice but to finish things before the night was over.

Grateful he had the forethought to stop at the gas station for a sandwich and other sustenance, Barry munched in his car as he waited for darkness to fall. Staring down at his phone, he had the urge to text Annie, but not a single appropriate thing occured to him as he looked at the blank text box. 

_Hey, how’s hooking going? Thanks again for the sex, I really needed it. Feeling a bit more manageably suicidal today._ Somehow Barry thought that would be the wrong message to send.

Finally dusk approached and Barry set up his rifle. The two men were known to be quite experienced, so Barry wanted to wait until they were standing close, hoping to plink them both off as quickly as possible before the other could register what was happening and turn a gun on him.

They each took the side of a trunk holding god-knows-what and lifted, heaving with labored steps toward their already equipment-laden truck. A deep breath. Two pinches of his finger. The trunk plopped to the ground, immediately followed by their crumpled bodies. Barry hastily dismantled his weapon, dropping a large stick into the bear trap and double checking to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind before driving away into the night.

On his way home Barry ran into the last of the season’s construction and was forced to detour past Mario’s. He nearly slammed into the vehicle in front of him when he spotted Annie, bent over a man’s car window, leather skirt stretched tight about her ass in the air as she smiled and rested her forearm on his door.

Knuckles whitening on the steering wheel, Barry observed as she climbed into the passenger seat and the man pulled away from the curb. Rapidly doing an illegal u-turn, Barry pursued. He knew it was foolish, perhaps even pathetic, but seeing Annie’s lips spread that way for a stranger, in a smile Barry thought was just for him, made the vein in his forehead throb as he followed the tan sedan through the dark Cleveland streets.

They pulled over near an abandoned park and Barry turned off his headlights, idling up behind them. No matter how long he did this type of work, Barry was constantly amazed how normal people never seemed to notice they were being followed. Though everyone constantly worried what others thought of them, no one actually believed anyone would care enough to go to that kind of trouble. 

In the dim streetlight Barry could see the outlines of Annie and the man. Gritting his teeth, Barry watched as he pawed at her, kissing Annie’s neck. This man’s mouth tasting her ivory skin right before his eyes made Barry steam, and when he grabbed the back of her head, shoving Annie into his lap, Barry’s hand went to the door. 

But with a stuttered breath, he stopped himself. Annie wasn’t some damsel in distress, and Barry was no shining knight. If he were to march over there right now, tear the man from his seat and berate him for touching her, all Barry would accomplish would be disturbing Annie at work and likely alienating any chance of them reforging a connection. 

Still, Barry stayed to watch until they were finished. Though there was no element of voyeurism in his observance, Barry was certain Annie wouldn’t appreciate it if she knew he sat there, fuming as he couldn’t help but imagine the things taking place in the car before him.

Eventually her head rose and the man drove away, Barry trailing just behind until she was safely depositied back on her street corner. Barry stared at her for a moment as she congregated with the other ladies of the evening before returning home.

Back at his apartment, Barry paced, thoughts racing and hands fisted until he flopped down his mattress, slamming his forehead with his palms and emitting a tortured, squealing sigh. Standing once more, Barry continued his circuit of the shabby apartment until he came to his dresser.

Glancing down at the magnifying glass, Barry lifted it, caressing its pearlescent handle lovingly for a moment. Then, as if it burned his fingers, he hurled it at the wall with a roar, shaking with fury as the delicate shards tinkled to the floor and it lay at his feet, broken and useless.

Barry didn’t bother cleaning it up before crawling into bed, wishing that tears would come, that he could cry himself to sleep and forget Annie, forget Cleveland, forget himself. 

Texting Fuches to tell him the job was done, Barry pulled the blanket up to his chin and, staring into the muted tones of his empty room, settled in for a sleepless night.

***

Dipping into a half-remembered, shallow slumber sometime as the sun peeked over the horizon, when Barry awoke it was late afternoon and his eyes were crunchy and unfocused. He ate a bowl of cereal standing in the kitchen, staring at the one floor tile that peeled up in the corner and he never bothered to fix. Cleaning up the broken magnifying glass, Barry used a pen to clear away the ragged edges from its interior and replaced it on his dresser. Though hollow and unable to focus, Barry still found the iridescent handle tantalizingly gorgeous and couldn’t bring himself to dump it in the trash with the rest.

Barry forced himself to shower, and while the water streamed over his pale, forlorn body he came to a decision. After toweling off, he picked up his phone.

Barry: _Hey, can I see you again?_

To his surprise it wasn’t long before the dots danced in response.

Annie: _Sure, anytime._

Barry: _Are you free now?_

Annie: _Yeah. Give me like an hour and then come on over. Just text when you’re here and I’ll come down._

Choosing a navy Henley and dark wash jeans, Barry reached for the shoebox in the top of his closet. Nearly full to the brim with cash, Barry took a stack, estimating it was perhaps five thousand dollars, and crammed it into his shoulder bag before stepping into his shoes and going to Annie’s.

She greeted him in a knit dress far more appropriate for day wear, and with her loose auburn waves and natural makeup, Barry supposed no one would guess her profession did they not already know.

Inviting him up, Annie offered him a drink and once again Barry stuck to water as he fidgeted at her kitchen table. 

“Annie, look…” Barry leaned forward, unzipping his bag as she took the chair across from him. “I...I know what you said before, but...you have to take this, alright?” Setting the mound of bills on the table, Annie’s eyes went wide and she nearly choked on her water. “Just...what you’re doing, Annie. It’s...it’s not safe.”

Annie’s eyes slowly traveled up from the money to Barry’s face. “I can take care of myself, Barry.” Voice stern, her nose flared. “I’ve been doing this for a while and I get along just fine.”

Clenching his teeth, Barry’s jaw popped as he narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? And what about when some crazy guy comes along and picks you up, huh? What then, Annie?”

Standing, Annie shook her head. “Don’t pretend you know my life, Barry.” Hands balled into fists, she fought to keep her voice firm. “I know what I’m doing. I can handle it.”

“ _Oh yeah?”_ Breaking, Barry stood, kicking his chair aside. Dark blue eyes fiery, mouth a snarl, Barry spoke through gritted teeth as he advanced on her. “You think you know what’s out there? Huh? _Do you?”_ Shouting he took Annie by the shoulders and backed her into the wall. “You think you can handle it when some asshole gets out of control? _Huh?”_

Hand snatching her chin, Barry shook her face, spit flying from his lips as he yelled. “ _You_ have no idea, Annie! _You!_ There are monsters out there, do you understand me? And you’re putting yourself out like goddamn bait for what? _Pride?_ ”

Annie’s emerald eyes glowered back at him. “You can’t tell me how to live my life, Barry.” When she spoke it was dry, dangerous, not a hint of fear in her tone as her fingers slid up Barry’s chest, wrapping around his neck to tug the hair at the back of his head. “You can’t make me do _anything.”_

Lip quivering in his wrath, Barry bent forward until their noses nearly touched. “ _Wanna fucking bet?”_

Mouths mashing together, Barry took half of the collar of her dress in each of his sizable hands and with a swift yank, ripped it apart, tearing down her bra and groping wildly at Annie’s breasts. Her leg wrapped around his waist as Annie’s nimble fingers undid his zipper, hand sneaking in to pull his stiff cock rapidly as they inhaled one another. Barry hoisted her into his arms and carried Annie to the bedroom, bending his knees to avoid bumping her head on the doorframe before throwing her down on the bed, gripping her panties in his lengthy fingers and pulling until the fabric came away ragged.

All his weight on top of her, Barry left Annie’s mouth to sink his rounded teeth into the spot where her neck met her shoulder, Annie gasping in delight as he ground recklessly between her legs. 

Barry wedged an arm between them, unceremoniously inserting three long fingers deep inside of her and racing his thumb over Annie’s clit as he began to drive his arm forward. 

A shriek emanated from Annie’s lips as her limbs scrambled at the sudden intense sensation and she clawed at Barry’s shirt. “ _Barry! Yes! Fuck!”_

Shoving into her harder, Barry forced Annie’s body up and down on the mattress. “Is this what you want? Huh? You want someone to come and fuck you hard? You think you can take it? Huh? _Answer me!”_ Barry shouted and Annie nodded enthusiastically, Barry’s contorted, bestial features hovering before her spurring her on. 

“ _Yes! Fuck, Barry! Yes! Just like that! Don’t stop!_ ” Annie violently constricted around him, a tumbling scream echoing off her tiny walls before Barry withdrew his hand. Snaking an arm underneath her, he effortlessly flipped Annie over, cracking a wide palm over her round ass as he undid his belt. 

Barry hastily reached into her bedside drawer, to no surprise finding a plethora of condoms, their necessity only fueling his anger as he rolled it over himself before taking a fistful of hair and arching her ear back to his mouth. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so goddamn hard, Annie.” Barry growled, wide head of his cock swiping over her entrance. 

“Yes.” Arm curling back, Annie tried to pull him in. “Fuck me, Barry.” Clapping into her with one firm stroke, Barry hissed in pleasure as her heat surrounded him, biting down on her neck once more before lowering her head to the mattress.

Raising Annie’s hips, Barry began pounding inside of her viciously, hand smacking her ass again and again until it glowed red with the outline of his fingers. He wanted to mark Annie, not only to claim her, but so that she would see. So Annie would have evidence of the world’s unkindness.

Because as Barry pummeled his cock inside of her, bending forward and pushing her head into the mattress as his other hand ferociously rubbed her clit, he didn’t care. Barry didn’t care that she was his oldest friend. Barry didn’t care that Annie had it rough growing up. And he didn’t care about her sorry circumstances now. 

If she wasn’t willing to accept his help, Barry was going to show her the only other thing he could offer. That menacing, demanding shadow he carried over his broad back. If Annie wouldn’t lower her guard to allow Barry to provide, he was going to drag her with him unwillingly into the darkness, for at least if they huddled together in terror he would no longer be alone.

Slamming into her, Annie tightened around him again, screaming and trying to drive herself back on his thick cock as she seized below him, face squished into the mattress by Barry’s pressing palm.

“ _Is this what you wanted? Huh? Cum on my cock again, you fucking whore! I know you love it! Take it! Take my cock, you slut!”_ Screaming, Barry’s throat was raw, and to Annie it almost sounded like he was beyond rage, ascending into some desperately woeful, frightened place as he shook the bed with such intensity that she heard one of her canvases jump from the wall and clatter to the ground.

“ _Yes! Barry, yes! I love your cock! Fuck me! Yes!”_ Annie cried, quivering as she drooled onto the sheets in her belabored breathing, whites of her eyes all that was visible while she fused around Barry’s cock once more.

Forcing her flat, Barry took her ear between his teeth and worried it like a feral animal as he continued to hammer her into the mattress. Knees forcing her legs apart, Barry humped aggressively, hands pining her shoulders down.

“ _Fuck! Yeah! I’m gonna cum! Fuck!”_ Whimpering, Barry’s forehead pressed to the back of her neck as his movements grew erratic and his body flexed. “ _Fuck! Annie! I’m cumming! FUCK!”_ Hips shooting forth, Barry let out a high, vulnerable whine, rocking up and down a little before deflating with a shiver.

Attempting to breathe on top of her, Barry spotted the perfect impressions of his rounded teeth in her skin and, free from the haze of lust, a bilious shame rose in his throat. Rolling off, Barry trailed a single finger down her arm, looking away. “I...I’m sorry, Annie.” Swallowing, Barry shook his head into the pillow. “That...I lost control. I...I didn’t mean...I hope…” Flipping onto his back, Barry ran his hands down his face and blinked up at the ceiling. “I don’t actually feel...I don’t really think you’re a...you know…”

Chuckling as she rolled onto her side, Annie brushed back her sweaty hair. “A whore? Barry, I _am_ a whore. And I don’t mind that kind of talk during sex. It can be hot.”

“Oh.” Bobbing his head a little, Barry bit the inside of his lip. “Okay then.” Getting up to throw away the condom, Barry stripped down to his boxers before he joined Annie back in bed.

Nestling under his arm, Annie’s fingers danced through Barry’s dark chest hair as they lay in amiable silence. But after a few minutes, she tilted her chin up to him, brow furrowed. “Hey Barry, where’d you get all that money?”

Tensing, Barry swallowed. “I work in auto parts. It’s very lucrative.”

Annie narrowed her eyes. “Barry...is that...do you mean you’re lifting cars? Because you can tell me, you know. Obviously what I do isn’t exactly considered legal.” She lifted an upturned palm and shrugged.

“No.” Barry shook his head. “It’s legit. Just very profitable.”

“Oh yeah?” Note of suspicion creeping into her voice, Annie came up on her elbow. “And where exactly is this establishment that’s so profitable? And even if it is, why do you have so much cash?”

Shifting his eyes, Barry raised a shoulder. “I withdrew it from the bank for you this morning.”

Barry knew Annie wasn’t stupid. And she also was more than a little familiar with each and every tell in Barry’s face and mannerisms. Annie shook her head. “Barry, you’re lying to me. I don’t know why, but you are.” Taking his hand, Annie gave it a squeeze as she searched his dark blue eyes. “Just tell me.”

Moving her hand away, Barry sat up, gripping his fingers in his lap. “Annie, I...I can’t. You’ll look at me differently.”

Annie pushed herself up to join him, lightly touching his shoulder and trying to catch his eye, but Barry continued to stare at his hands. “Barry, whatever it is, I’ll still...I’m...I won’t go anywhere. I promise.” Carding her fingers through his short, dark hair, she planted a kiss to his vast shoulder. “Please. You can tell me.”

Clearing his throat, Barry looked at her appraisingly. “Alright so…” Eyes falling again, Barry’s hands crawled over themselves in his anxiety. “When I was...when I was over there I found out that I, um...I’m really good with guns and stuff…” Barry’s shoulders curled inward. “I started to get awards for marksmanship, everyone told me how great I was, things like that and so, after I got discharged, I…” Shifting his weight, Barry unconsciously turned away from her. “I was having a really hard time being back here…” Voice small, Barry picked at nothing on the sheets as he fought to continue. “And this guy...this friend of my dad’s, Fuches, he said...well, he suggested what I was good at over there could be useful over here…”

“Wait a second,” Annie blinked, tilting her head. “ _Monroe_ Fuches?”

Barry faced her again, nodding. “Oh yeah, you met him a few times, right? You remember him?”

Lip curling, Annie lifted an eyebrow. “Yeah. I remember him. Ran into him about a year ago.”

“Really?” Barry looked at her and Annie nodded.

“Yeah. He...he goes to that restaurant near my corner a lot. One night he came up to me, asking for my time.” Shaking her head, Annie clenched her jaw. “He said ‘You were always so pretty growing up’.” Appearing vaguely nauseous, Annie continued as Barry’s hand formed a fist and the sound of his own blood whooshed in his ears. “I told him I don’t trade with people I know. Just a policy I have. Well, typically…” She patted Barry’s thigh absently. “And, well…” Eyebrows high, Annie made a face. “He didn’t take too kindly to that. He was upset and tried to get rough with me. But when I pulled out my pocket knife, he backed off.” Annie shrugged, and when she looked up into Barry’s face again her eyes widened at his expression.

Nothing short of bestial, Barry’s left eye flickered and his rounded teeth were bared. “He hurt you?”

“Well, he…” Swallowing, Annie placed a reassuring hand over Barry’s. “He grabbed my arm. Kind of hard. Talking about how his money was as green as anyone else’s and I should be grateful. Stuff like that.”

Sitting back, Barry pulled his fingers over his face, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry.” Annie murmured. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you.”

“No.” Barry nodded, touching her arm “I’m glad you did.”

They sat silently for a moment before Annie leaned into him. “So...you were saying about...about the work you do together…” 

“Oh.” Face falling, Barry bobbed his head. “Yeah...right. So...so Fuches he...I…” Heart beating a tattoo against his chest, Barry took a deep breath. “I do hits.”

Annie stared unblinkingly for what seemed like a long time. “Hits? As in...you...you kill people?”

Withdrawing his hand, Barry shook his head. “See?” He whispered, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them to himself. “You look at me differently. Now...now you’re scared of me.” Resting his forehead down, Barry told himself to breathe. To inhale, to exhale.

Placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, Annie moved closer. “No, Barry, I…” Her mouth worked open and closed in silence for a minute as she sought the right words. “I’m not scared of you. It’s...I wish it wasn’t something you did, of course, but…” Encircling him with her arms, Annie spoke into his skin. “I’m in no position to judge you.”

Barry placed his forehead to hers. “Thank you. “ Interlacing their fingers, Barry shook his head and Annie’s shook with it. “I don’t enjoy it, just so you know. I’m not like...it doesn’t do anything for me.”

“If you don’t enjoy it…” Annie held him, voice soft. “Why keep doing it?”

Shrugging, Barry rubbed circles into her palm. “I don’t know what else to do. I think…” Barry sighed heavily. “I think it’s the only thing I’m good at and that…” Swallowing hard, he squeezed her fingers. “That scares me.”

“Oh, Barry, that’s not true.” Cupping his stubbled face, Annie forced his Deep blue eyes to meet her own. “You’re good at so many things. You’re smart and funny and kind. If you really don’t want to keep doing this…” Annie shook her head. “Then don’t. You can find something else.” Closing his eyes, Barry giggled. “What?” Annie furrowed her brow in confusion.

Barry held out his hand. “Ms. Pot, I’m Mr. Kettle. Lovely to meet you.”

Rolling her eyes, Annie playfully smacked his palm away, “Alright. Fair enough. But Barry…” She searched his face. “You really don’t seem...happy. So if this is part of what’s causing that, maybe it’s time to get out.”

Quiet for a moment, Barry nodded carefully before they snuggled down together. As Annie’s breathing grew slow and deep beside him. Barry stared at the ceiling, sifting over the state of his life in the darkness.

***

Barry thought of everything. He closed his bank accounts. He wrote a letter to his mother, posting it so she wouldn’t receive it for a couple of days. He slipped a note under the office door of his apartment building with a stack of hundreds and an apology. And Barry had the gun.

Empty duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Barry drew air into his lungs, steeling himself before he knocked on the door.

“Barry!” Fuches answered, smiling wide. ”Hey there, what’s up, bu—“

Sinking his knuckles into Fuches’ cheek, he sprawled on the floor as Barry burst into the room, slamming the door behind him. “What the _fuck?_ ” Fuches brought a hand to his pained face. “What did you hit me for?”

Thinking it unnecessary to explain about Fuches’ hassling a sex worker a year before that he might not even remember anyway, Barry bent down, pointing in his face. “I’m done!” He shouted, blue eyes wide as he hunched over Fuches’ wincing form. “All of it. You, the hits, everything! This is over!”

Holding up his hands, Fuches sat up. “Now Barry, c’mon. Let’s talk about this.”

“No.” Reaching into the back waistband of his pants, Barry brought out a gun, leveling it at Fuches. “Where’s my money?”

Nervously chuckling, Fuches tried to keep his tone light. “Now, now, Barry... there’s no need for that. C’mon. Whatever it is, we can work this out.”

Cocking the gun, Barry bent over and shoved the barrel under Fuches’ chin, succeeding in wiping the grin from his face. “Where’s my goddamn money?” Tone dry and empty, Barry’s icy stare bore into Fuches and he swallowed, pointing. 

“The bed. It’s in the box spring.”

Nodding, Barry rose, keeping the gun trained on Fuches as he walked over and pushed the mattress aside. Unzipping the cover, his eyes went wide. Obviously Fuches lied to him about the amounts received for jobs, as the endless stacks of bills were more than he could have anticipated. With his free hand Barry filled the duffel bag with half of the contents, tempted to take it all and leave Fuches destitute, but not wanting to encourage any further contact with him.

Hoisting the bag over his shoulder, Barry uncocked the gun as he placed his hand on the doorknob. “We’re done.” Tone cold, he left the apartment, Fuches blinking and shaken on the floor.

Returning to his car, everything Barry thought he might need was packed in the trunk. The useless magnifying glass rested on the passenger seat beside him as he tossed the duffle bag into the back. Staring at it for a moment, Barry pulled the string from his hoodie and used it to tie the magnifying glass to his rearview mirror, its shimmering surface catching the light as he drove.

Barry rolled to a stop in front of Annie’s building. As he pressed her buzzer and waited, he feared he might be too early, that she might be asleep and perhaps it was unwise not to discuss this with her in advance, but his thoughts up to this point were a whirlwind and he hadn’t slowed for a second.

“Hello?” Her voice crackled over the speaker.

Leaning down from his tall stature, Barry cleared his throat. “Hey, it’s Barry. Can I come up?”

“Sure.” The door clicked open and Barry took the stairs two at a time, Annie greeting him in shorts and a t-shirt, looking only partially conscious. “Hey Barry, what’s up?”

Coming inside, Barry began to pace. “Alright, so…” Holding out his hands, he spoke rapidly and gestured wildly. “I need to get out of town. Like right now, okay? And I can’t…” Peering out the window, Barry saw snowflakes hovering on the wind. “And I want to go somewhere warm. I’m thinking California, maybe. But it has to be today.” Barry pointed at the floor, spinning on his heel to face her. “And I need to know…” Breath hitching, Barry looked to the ceiling briefly before locking into Annie’s green eyes. “If you’ll come with me.”

Flabbergasted, Annie lifted her palms. “Barry, I...we can’t just _go_ to California all of a sudden. I mean...what will we do there? Where will we live? How would we survive?”

“Well…” Barry scratched the back of his head. “I have at least a hundred thousand dollars, so I think we’ll have time to figure that out.”

Annie’s mouth fell open. “ _A hundred thousand?_ ” Blinking, she sat down at the kitchen table and shook her head. “Man...I’ve been offing guys the wrong way for years, apparently…”

Despite how keyed up he was, Barry giggled and stepped forward, taking Annie’s hand. “So? Will you come with me?”

Annie looked into Barry’s cobalt eyes, his earnest, kind expression and smiled. “Fuck it. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Barry beamed, taking her face in both hands and knit their lips together, sharing a kiss of excitement, of hope. “Great. Pack only what you absolutely can’t live without. I can buy anything else we need on the way or when we get there.”

Nodding, Annie got out her suitcases and flitted about her apartment, gathering up whatever she could fit before changing into jeans and a sweatshirt. After leaving a note for her landlord as well, Barry hauled Annie’s bags down to the car, wedging them into the backseat. 

Barry slid the key into the ignition and, Annie in the passenger side, she lifted her fingers to touch the dangling magnifying glass. “That’s beautiful.”

Nodding, Barry took Annie’s hand as snow gathered on the chilly Cleveland sidewalks around them. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know.” Lifting a shoulder, Annie gave Barry a soft smile.

Barry shook his head, grinning. “Me neither.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read! If you enjoyed this story, please leave a comment or come say hi on tumblr at fandomtransmandom. I also take requests!


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